


The Breakfast Shift

by ParadoxR



Series: The 52nd Hour [4]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Canon, Episode: s01e01 Children of the Gods (1), F/M, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 01, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxR/pseuds/ParadoxR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s glaring now, and he knows it. He knows Lou knows it. They’re starting to unravel.</p><p>A couple "stuck on a random planet after CotG" stand alones, which is also part three of “52nd Hour”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Six Seconds

This one tickles more.

She releases an unconscious little half-smile as her hand manages to make the buzzing stop. It’s warm here, comfortable. Much better than last night.

“Captain.”

Yeah, last night was…wet. The buzzing’s back.

“ _Captain._ ”

 

Sam swats her hand again only to have in contact something much more solid than expected. She freezes with her hand still on it.

_Don’t make him mad._

 

“ _CAPTAIN._ ”

His tone flips her from ‘freeze’ to ‘flight’ and she tries to pulling down, wrenching her arm away. Her vision blurs, tan and green, as pain contacts her nose. She gnashes her teeth but elicits only a grunt. The thing climbs with her to her feet, wrapping her arms on her chest. It’s _huge!_

“LET ME GO!”

The oppressive arms drop from her sternum immediately.

 

Jack re-aims for her hand as she tries to bolt. He snags it and sweeps her ankles simultaneously. She stumbles, hanging from his arm as he wheels her around and sets her kneeling in front of him.

 _Shit going, Jack._ “ _Sam!_ ” Chulak clearly had been a bad night.

She blinks, otherwise frozen.

 

 _Run!_ Her shoulder’s shooting pain but it’d be over soon. She flexes her fingers as inconspicuously as possible within his grip, testing her wrist.

 

Jack drops her hand immediately. He winces when she does.

“Sorry.” _Great first six seconds of the morning you got there, Colonel._

His captain’s head bolts up to his. It’s the darkest he’s yet seen her eyes, despite the already risen sun.

Her jaw slowly starts working. He examines it, a little too transfixed as it dispels the sleep that’s managed to cling to her.

 

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._ Ahem. “Colonel.” _Shit._ “Colonel, I.” _Shit._

“Sir.” She finishes, having said nothing.

 

Jack grimaces. “On your feet, Captain.” It’s an easy voice, but the movement it provokes in her almost sends her skull into a collision with his chin.

 

“Sorry! Sorry, Sir. I…Sir.” _Didn’t anyone ever teach you to put words in your sentences, you idiot?_ She could’ve kicked herself. It would’ve been a very fitting second impression for the morning.

She coughs. “Sorry, Sir.” Her left leg is the last thing to move, bringing her to attention.

 

Lou’s still grinning behind her. Jack’s about ready to shoot the kid.

“At ease, Captain.”

 

Sam feels it without telling her stance to widen. “I apologize, Sir.” She tries again with her longest word of the morning.

“Accepted, Captain.”

It’s be biggest breath she’s taken of the morning, too. _You are an idiot. _“Sir, I—”

“Captain, did you know where you were a minute ago?”

Sam blinks, not allowing her head to move. _I was asleep a minute ago, damnit._ “No, Sir.” She’d be proud of her level delivery if she weren’t such an idiot.

Her CO sighs at her. _You’re really forcing him to make a habit out of that._ “Captain, in this business, we don’t move before we decide where we’re going.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Sometimes we decide quickly.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He grimaces at her through her curtain of protocol. “ _Does that make sense_ , Captain?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Apparently she can’t see him through it.

Jack sighs so theatrically she can taste his breakfast from two feet away. _You missed breakfast, you idiot._

“Do you understand _why_ , Captain?”

Sam gulps, eyes still ten degrees above the horizon behind him. But she gets his message, finally. _You’re popping of at him. Just cop to it._ “Because you might mistakenly bite your CO, Sir.”

 

Her tone’s flat. It’s hiding more fear than embarrassment. He barks a laugh immediately, thankfully covering his men’s chuckles. “I doubt _I’d_ do that, Captain.” Though his mind’s suddenly grasped by an image of him biting General Hammond’s arm from across the oaken desk. There are no teeth imprints on his own bicep, but her spit is drying slowly. He manages not to wipe at it.

“Right. No, Sir. Yes, Sir.” Her blush deepens to below her crew neck.

He should really talk to her about that word. He doesn’t. He lets her go instead, finishing with a standing order: “So, you feign sleep until you decide what you need do.” He just barely catches the trap he’s set for himself. “Or until I _tell_ you what you need to do.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good!” He claps her on the shoulder as an experiment. He feels but doesn’t see the shudder that emanates from the location. _We’ll be home soon, Captain._

Forty hours and nineteen minutes. Heaven willing. She isn’t ready for this shit.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, how’s long you gonna need over there?” The goofy grin is still plastered to Lou’s face, but Jack’s captain seems to be successfully ignoring it. It’s a good skill to have around Lou.

Carter gulps down her current bite of alien deer meat. “Forty hours, Sir.” She looks to him respectfully before dropping her gaze back to the calculations she’s sketching beside their dying fire.

Charlie smirks up from his work. “What a coincidence.”

The captain gulps again, eyes rising dutifully. “Yes, Sir.” _It’d be nice if you’d stop distracting me, though._

Charlie flicks her knife deftly against the stick he’s sharpening. The end breaks into a point. He tosses the makeshift spear to Lou who sets aside his own rock sharpening to heft it.

“Nice.”

Charlie just nods as he catches the return pass.

“So…What else is there?”

Sam feels Major Ferretti’s gaze on her matted hair. “Sir?”

“You know, shuttles ‘n stuff.” He pauses. “How long?”

Sam gulps, this time without the benefit of food. “Sir…?” The first calculation comes to mind unbidden, the rest of the strings merging closely behind. “Sir, I’m not sure where we are, but even taking the most favorable estimate based on the dialer’s coordinate system, we’re a least twelve light years out.” She changes a glance at him. He’s staring. “Sir…” She takes her last bite deliberately, knowing how childish it must look. “…If they’d launched _Colombia_ when homo sapiens evolved, it wouldn’t be here yet.”

Lou’s eyes bug into the stone he’s sharpening. Charlie’s gaze drifts to the sky.

Jack just studies her.

 

Lou coughs, characteristically the first to dispel the discomfit. “So…definitely not making the game.” Or, you know, exponentially exacerbate the issue.

Sam shifts slightly and tosses her clean bone back on the fire. Still, the statement’s demanding a question.

Jack should’ve stopped her. _You should’ve stopped her._

“Game, Sir?”

“Pee-wee soccer.” Lou smiles to their newest teammate. “She’s goalie.”

Sam’s falling stomach resounds again the forest floor. “You…you have a daughter.”

Lou misses the photos that were in his BDU blouse. They’re signed by everyone he’s served with in those years. “Liz is three.” His smile broadens. The pain is just barely peeking into its edges.

Sam nods, now wholly unable to meet his eyes. She scratches the dirt deeply and coughs as it kicks up into her mouth. “That’s…it’s a nice name.”

 

Lou freezes before coughing a grin at her. It’s supposed to be comforting. _Way to go, jerk._ He feels his CO staring at his ear. _Sorry, Sir._

 

Jack’s glaring now and he knows it. He knows Lou knows it. And he’s not sure what to do about it. _We’re starting to unravel._ The colonel’d managed to keep Daniel away from her—not that it was hard with the way he’s rightfully sulking—but Lou should know better. Knowing Sha’re would probably die with Daniel stranded here is one thing; knowing the personal details of their lives is another.

“Captain, go for a walk.” He gestures deliberately to where Goldie’s walking the perimeter. She nods, twice, dispelling his doubts that she might wander off incorrectly. She’s on her feet. He doesn’t need to remind her to grab a staff weapon.

 

“Jack, I—”

“ _Major_.” Jack doesn’t know how deep his anger is until he hears it in his voice.

“—normal bonding.” Lou stumbles out the broken thought.

“She’s not one of us.” And _that_ was too loud. Jack can almost hear the captain wince at the truth. “She doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”

“I know.”

“Then _don’t_.” He voice drops back to their standard quiet.

“Jack…” His 2IC starts. “You’re not going to un-ring that bell.”

 

Charlie studies his CO closely. He’s…reacting. Not overreacting. Just…reacting. It’s a little weird.

 

Jack turns to the elder major. He studies Charlie studying him, and then he gets up to follow his junior officer.

Charlie considers following him. They’re starting to fray at the edges.

 

Thirty-nine hours and forty-seven minutes.


	3. Close Enough

“Captain.”

It’s bright and calm in the primeval forest, and she and Goldie both stop to wait for him. Jack waves the alien warrior on.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

Jack’s mouth closes on his apology. “For…?”

Sam stutters a little as they walk, clearly caught off guard by the follow-up to her ever-present phrase. “I understand the stakes, Sir. I really am working to get us out of here.” She gestures to her head slightly and manages to convey ‘lost in thought’ while simultaneously addressing him. Jack suspects she could convey that look under any circumstance.

“Lou shouldn’t have added to that pressure, Captain.” _He wasn’t thinking._ “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him quizzically.

“Careful.”

More quizzicalness, but she feels the rock loosen blow her boot just in time. Her weight shifts onto her staff weapon automatically, forestalling the stumble. He doesn’t need to catch her this time. It’s a good thing. _That’s a good thing._

“Thanks,” she offers it more quietly than necessary. “Sir.”

 

He studies her in the red sunlight. She looks…impressive. It’s not a feeling he’s used to in rookie operators. She’s concentrated, though not so much on her surroundings, and doesn’t look preoccupied. And she’s got a lot she could look preoccupied about. The bruises haven’t faded from her forearms, though her face is pretty clear. Jack tries not to think about why men chose deliberately avoid beating women’s faces. He hopes he killed those gray-suits personally.

 

They’ve almost made a full circuit around the camp. Jack studies her peripherally. She’s not ready to head back. _Thirty-nine hours and forty-one minutes._ He digs into his cargo pocket, pulling out an extra plum-like thing that the local deer seem to love. He wipes it on his shirt, _bad idea_ , before offering it to her.

She sniffs slightly, preparing one of her more reasonable protests, but in the end just takes it.

“Part of a balanced breakfast.” He flashes her a grin.

She doesn’t return it, still calculating that variable capacitor situation. “Thank you, Sir.”

Yeah, about that. “Don’t call me that.” He still feels the nonexistent snipers painting bulls-eyes on his back.

The plum’s in her mouth, so her eyebrows just rise over it. It’s rather comedic.

_And kinda cute._

_Shut up._

“Do you know what that word does out here, Captain?”

She swallows. “No, S…”

“It paints bullseyes on my back.”

She gulps, not having taken another bite. “Right.” She scans the trees more openly.

 _Ok, not literally in this particular instance._ He hopes.

“And no ‘colonel’.” He continues to her swiveling head. “And relax around me.” Ok, that might’ve been otherwise motivated.

She nods silently.

“Name’s ‘Jack’.”

… “Alright.”

Close enough.


End file.
